Talk:Something to Read 3: Mirror Reflections/@comment-4107522-20180130223610
“If My Future…” Seventeen years old. She’d be graduating in a year. A lot could happen in that time. Someone like her could easily go with whatever lifestyle she wanted. Rich, famous, high-society parents in addition to her nearly flawless grades with any school she attended; not to mention that she had supernatural abilities and a mystical dagger. Of course, her fantasy was hindered by the glaring interruption that was her ongoing battle with an underground cult trying to take over the world or whatever finding all of those files would lead them to… but wars don’t last forever, and she could always pretend the whole thing would be resolved by the next year. “Hey, Ace,” That pulled her out. ‘Oh yeah,’ she thought. ‘I’m sitting outside the principal’s office looking off into space.’ That nickname… Ace. She rather liked it, though only when coming from a special someone. It wasn’t flowery or exaggerated. All it meant was that she was excellent, and she was. She was the top at most thing she did, even if she pursued just about none of them for a career. And he… he was a hot drummer and song-writer that had a crush on her for about a year before she gave way, not that she wasn’t crushing back almost the entire time. He got to call her Ace because it wasn’t a pet name and he knew that. Of course, he also had just walked out from the principal’s office, and she was very interested to find out what was the reason behind it. “Hey… y-you,” She hazily replied. ‘Stupid daydreaming getting in the way of good nickname calls,’ she silently cursed to herself before standing up to her dude. She always had a habit of brushing her skirt at least once after standing. “So… detention?” “Yeah,” He reached for the back of his head with one hand while the other searched his pockets. “Here,” A crumbled paper with jotted down stanzas. He made sure to explain before she started reading. “The principal thought the lyrics were a bit too… suggestive, and we were kind of practicing really loud… with the whole school hearing it.” “Oh really…” That got her interested. She scanned the paper. The main chorus sounded “Rippled running on rocky walkways, falling down on a moonlit Sat-ur-daaaaaay—” She couldn’t help but think ‘Cute’ noticing that he actually wrote in the extra A’s to show the word stretched. “—Backs to the ground, and the only sound was, heavy breathing, a moment of relieving and reliving, the moon can’t stop us now.” “Okay…” She nodded before glancing back up. “Yeah, I can see kind of where they get that idea but seems a bit stretching… they’re going to make you rewrite it?” “That’s what I was in there to talk about,” He sighed as she handed back the paper. “They’ll let me rewrite it but they said it’s best to just not play the song as school at all.” “Well I’m up for a little protest for music,” She smirked, half-serious about the idea. “That’s the excuse right? Art or whatever?” She could tell a nerve got hit, but barely. He stiffened a bit, but she knew he wouldn’t call her out for the somewhat snarky remark. “Yeah something like that,” was his forced out reply. “… You’re serious?” “No,” She shook her head. “They’ll get mad, and you’ll get expelled. Just leave the song out of school.” “You want me to just give up?” He looked a tad surprised, and she wasn’t ready for this to escalate. Her brows rose, her jaw dropped a bit, and her gaze went upward diagonal with a deep inhale and sigh of complete realization where that just went. “That’s not it,” She half-cringed. “I think all your songs are adorably corny but they sound pretty wicked, and I’d rather hear the real deal while hanging at your garage than some restrained tofu on the school’s speakers.” “… Okay…” He was clearly processing this still—not the message, he understood that part—but the intention behind it. Once clear, however, he had more information to provide. “but… we signed up to do the music for the New Year party, and this song was the one all expected to play.” “Oh…” She shrunk just slightly, her instincts going to lean against the wall but she resisted. “Well… that really does stink but… I mean…” She rubbed her face with a puttered sigh. “You’ve got plenty of other songs people love.” “Yeah,” He sighed as well. “Guess we’ll ju-“ “Okay, hold on,” She interrupted. “What if I talk to the principal? Or we could both go back in there and explain.” “That’ll get them mad,” He winced. “But… I mean… it IS a week till the party…” “Then let’s get in there and if the principal doesn’t agree, we talk to the school council. Start a petition or something.” “You really want this to happen,” He chuckled. She took on a sly smile, leaning forward a bit. “I wanna watch you play.” He couldn’t help but chuckle just a bit. “Did I mention how much I love your accent?” Happy… she was happy, and through the debates with the staff, she was still happy. Going from person to person, and finally getting a yes in one day, she was enjoying herself. Then she went home. Every time she looked at this single story house, she felt such relief. So many times, she took alternative routes to past fancy two or three story rental houses, but it seemed even her parents wanted this house to be more low key. A small cringe still lay on her face when she saw the yard. Her family could afford the water bills unlike most others, and so they took advantage. Step One: Walk through doorway and see parents talking on the couch. “Hello, Lizena,” ‘Because normal names are just too non-embarrassing to name your kids by.’ Step Two: Walk past parents toward the hall to your room while giving a brief. “Hi…” ‘Because if you don’t say anything, they get on your case, but of course that doesn’t always work.’ Step Thr- “Something happen at school?” ‘Great… well scratch those instructions.’ “Yeah,” Maybe there was still time to leave it there and- “What was it?” Nope. “I was helping Jack with a project for next week: his band.” “Oh,” Why yes, it could very well be the mother talking, or the father. They had blended together years before, and so she did not distinguish them in her conversation or mind. “And you did that instead of working on a portfolio? M-“ “Remember that arrangement we had?” She snapped back, swiping around at them. “This is hardly breaking it,” One of them responded. “We can’t just want you to get a good step in a special career? You’ll be graduating and-“ “I applied to work at a local bookstore yesterday,” She interrupted again. “I’m going to stock things and work with the dewey-dumbfounded system. Come tomorrow, I’m getting a yes from them, and if there’s something after that, it’ll be very separate. Separate from rich funds, and separate from your professions.” She went to her room, put on a towel, took a shower, changed clothes, went to her computer, and went to her Email. She had gotten a message from the bookstore. A few clicks later and she folded her laptop, bringing it with her. Next, she travelled to a restaurant some miles away. “Your shift isn’t for another fifteen minutes,” A higher employee informed as she walked up, to which Lizzy replied bluntly “I’m ready now. Waiting tables right?” She convinced herself that the reason she lied was because she didn’t want to find her parents talking to the managers about their daughter being in a servant position, and not that she didn’t feel partial shame for the choice she made. The Email was deleted. No one was going to see that rejection. She worked for five hours. She wouldn’t receive her paycheck till the end of the week, but between each serving, her mind wandered again. It wandered to the New Year Party in just two days, and Jack. She stopped thinking… mostly, about what could have been in the past. So now, she wanted to think about what could be. ‘If my future… after the Legion was dealt with…’ Her reflection on the silvery plate drew her hands to her cheeks: wondering how long age marks would take to appear. She would still have her secret identity intact. She’d be… twenty. That was a good age. She’d be waiting tables, apron and skirt: at one of those bookstores with coffee shops. Then Jack would come in, and he’d look like… like a dorky rock star. Tight leather jeans with some weird jacket and a t-shirt. In truth, while Lizzy could imagine it happening, she couldn’t imagine that it would actually happen. He’d ask if she had the day off… then she’d take off the apron and walk out with him… Well first she’d thank her employers for the job and then walk out. Business-owners really don’t get a good enough rep. Either way, she’d be the rock star now. It would take some convincing to get Glenn to agree to it. Dave probably wouldn’t mind. Then one day… she’d be a no-show at a song, and Jack would find her on the couch after a fight: dagger in hand, and he’d know. She’d tell him everything… He’d… he’d walk out… ‘He’d walk away’ her voice cracked. ‘Why wouldn’t he?’ “… No,” Mid-serving of a family she protested, before quickly apologizing and clarifying her intentions weren’t against them. ‘It’s my fantasy… He’d… he’d come back…’ Maybe it wouldn’t be easy at first, but… Tess would have her back. Zen would have her back. They’d help her explain… but would they still be her friends? They’d all be around twenty. Tess would be a famous athlete now. Zen would be something, maybe some unhappy tech guy. In the end, her parents would underst- ‘Jack! Jack would… would understand…’ She winced. They wouldn’t be involved… at all. She wouldn’t be able to do anything about them. They would put up a face to their friends and the public that they think her life-choice as a rockstar with her man was “Unique” and “Refreshing”, but of course they’d also avoid the topic of her at every step, and avoid being around her as much as she would avoid being around them. Then maybe one day, by some strange turn of events, she’d be in the hospital. THEN they would show concern, because—as her mother particularly was fond of reminding—as much of a disappointment she was… no, a disgrace, they “Don’t want you to end up DEAD, Lizena. It would be such a waste”. They would have a fight of course, but it would mean nothing. Tabloids might talk about it, and she wouldn’t care. It would be a cycle until they died, and by then, she would be at least forty. Jack would be at her side for it, or maybe he’d just tell her to let it go and just avoid them. They’d spend their lives refusing to talk about it but then one Christmas, her parents would come bearing gifts for their grandchild…ren. “No,” Lizzy was jogging back home now in the night: kicking forward in a sudden burst before slowing again. She could never forget the day she was torn from her grandfather’s arms, and the next when her parents said “You are never to see him again.” They just wanted to mold her. That’s all they ever wanted. “That’s all they want from me!” She tripped, and skidded across the pavement. With a hiss: the short black cat got up, and walked to a nearby bus-stop bench. Her wounds would heal momentarily, but now there was no way she would be going “home” for the night. Wouldn’t be the first… ‘Wouldn’t be the thirtieth…’ She pulled out her phone, and called Jack. She got an answering machine, “Hey, this is Jack. I might not be hearing your call because I’m bashing drums. Message at the beep and all.” “Hey… it’s me…” She didn’t say any more at first so the message cut off. She called again. “Sorry, I… don’t know why I’m calling… You don’t know much about my par-“ she ended the call. Once more “I want nothing to do with them… I don’t know what to do…” She got up from the bench, and started walking forward again. Her phone rang, then her heart stopped when it was Jack’s father who she heard. “Do you know why they are the way they are with you? It always helps to know why someone does what they do. Most people who act out are ones who were hurt too, and sometimes it takes someone to break the mold to help fix it… I can’t imagine what you may be going through.” She gave away that she heard him with her slight breathing and nearly-silent stammering. Lizzy was barely able to talk to Jack about it. She wasn’t about to try and explain more to his father. She was just… silent, so eventually he just hung up, and all she was left with was the advice. To imagine any sympathy for her parents in pain was a difficult prospect. Lizzy rolled her eyes at the idea: sitting down once more at the bench. She did know why they were how they were. She knew for years because they never stopped reminding her. Clear as crystal, “We weren’t as well-off as we are today, Lizzy, we worked to get where we are. You have the opportunity to live up to your potential and role in society. We don’t want you to waste your time in something so… dangerous and dark. It could destroy everything we’ve worked for.” They were of course afraid majorly about how this would impact their popularity… but she also knew it they were afraid of how it would ruin the future generations. It was impossible to separate the selfish desires, but there was some kind of reasonable desire as well. Lizzy’s extended family were quite popular… and they had more children. Lizzy was—unless there was something people hadn’t told her—an only child… their only chance. She scanned through the web on her phone, and dialed a number. Three hours later… A knock came on the door of the Eventide house. Mr. Eventide scrunched his face confused at Lizzy’s decision of entry. “Ringing the doorbell? Since when?” “Where’s Mom?” She asked whilst walking inside. “Bed.” “… Fine, tomorrow.” “Lizzy, what are you doing?” “Wait till tomorrow,” she replied on her way to her room. It was a very odd morning for sure. Both parents sat rather tensely at the table. Lizzy could only assume they thought she had done something dangerous again… which wasn’t unreasonable to assume. She stood in front of them, and after finally getting their word that they would not speak until she was finished, she offered them a keycard. Mr. Eventide examined it immediately as Lizzy explained “You have a week. There are beverages and the requirements all prepared. I checked your schedule. You can make the time. I already talked to the main client and he thought it was ‘adorable and sweet that a young lady would want to make her parents so happy’.” “… This is a bit… “ Mr. Eventide couldn’t really find the correct words, so Mrs. Eventide made the attempting question “What is this about, Lizzy?” “I’m not your perfect daughter, and we’re never going to see eye-to-eye,” The black cat responded. “I don’t want what you want, and the longer we try to fight that battle, the worse things will get. I… really… really hate to admit it, but it’s not entirely fair that what you two have planned out be wasted, so here’s your chance. You can have the perfect son or daughter to grow up to be what you want.” “This is far too sudden, and we-“ “Actually,” Mr. Eventide pocketed the keycard, “… We should try it…” He felt his wife stare at him, and responded calmly “Let’s just try it… it may… help…” “… When do we leave?” Mrs. Eventide turned to Lizzy. “Whenever today,” The daughter replied. There was a pause, but soon after, they were both packing small bags for the short trip. Mrs. Eventide couldn’t help but say at one point, when Lizzy had left to do… all she usually did “… She doesn’t know…” “… Maybe we can stop by the adoption center then. We’ll just…see what happens for now. We can’t…” he sighed “we can’t raise suspicion.” Lizzy was watching as they left, just to be certain. She smiled a bit. She felt like something good had happened. She called Jack again “Hey handsome, are you in the mood to do anything today? I feel like… celebrating.”